The Phoenix, from its funeral pyre,
While wreaths of smoke enshroud its form,
Its brazen feathers bathed in fire,
Arises from the ashes warm.
Close by the Nile the stony eyes,
Long-closéd, of the ancient Sphinx,
Unshielded, watch the Phoenix rise:
It does not only see, but thinks.
Great Pegasus, white wings outspread,
Departing from his mountain home,
Out over seas of black and red,
Eliminating foes, must roam.
And not a drop of blood is spilled
As sane, free humans start to build.
Their minds heed not inertia’s call;
The new philosophy conquers all.
Something from away back (written in my teens)… and looking to the future.